


When You Were Young

by thefairyprincev (QueenOfThePolarBears)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Childhood, Drabble Collection, Multi, Non-Chronological, there will be fluff and angst and whatever else I feel like writing at the time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:28:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4445351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfThePolarBears/pseuds/thefairyprincev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Title taken from the song by The Killers)</p><p>A non-chronological drabble series about the childhoods of the Uchiha and Senju siblings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which There Is Children And Hair Chewing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A five year old Madara is forced to babysit his two year old brother.

** Written 05/13/2015 **

** Idea: A five year old Madara is forced to babysit his two year old brother. **

** Characters: Madara, Izuna **

** Pairings: None. **

** Warnings: Small children being small children. **

* * *

Even at five, Madara is dreaming of being a shinobi, one that is feared throughout the lands, that will lead his clan to greatness. At five though, he is more often tasked with the job of watching his smelly younger brother, who's still too young to train, especially when their mother is pregnant again. Scowling, the five year old pokes the two and a half year old's cheek. Izuna blinks up at him and smiles widely.

“Nii-tama!” he says, and proceeds to stuff half his fist in his mouth, laughing happily. Madara scowls harder down at the giggling blob that is somehow related to him, and cautiously pokes the child's cheek again. Izuna gurgles and drools on his fist and Madara sure hopes that he wasn't anywhere near this embarrassing at the age of two. He makes a face at the thought and Izuna gapes up at him, hand still in his mouth, before he makes a happy squealing sound, and moves his hands so he can clap and giggle.

“ Nii-tama! 'gain! 'gain!” he says, before trailing off into incoherent babble. Madara looks down at Izuna in as much confusion as a five year old can muster, having absolutely no idea what the two year old is trying to communicate. Izuna just keeps giggling and babbling and then he lifts his sticky hands and making grabbing motions at his older brother. Madara stares at him. Izuna looks hopeful. Madara takes a step back. Izuna's lower lip trembles and he makes  _ the _ most pathetic sniffling, whimpery noise Madara has ever heard in all of his five years.

“Nii-tama?” the two year old says, eyes quickly filling with fat baby tears, and Madara does not want the child to cry, because then his mother would give him that disappointed look and his aunts would probably scold him, so he quickly steps closer to the baby again and with a scowl and a grunt, has picked up Izuna.

Izuna crows happily as he is picked up, and wraps chubby arms around his brother's neck, pressing a slobbery kiss against Madara's cheek, with a happy exclamation of “Nii-tama!”, before he proceeds to nearly choke the five year old with a hug.

Madara makes a strangled noise, nearly dropping the two year old as he stumbles backwards and trips, landing on the floor with Izuna happily giggling away, squeezing his neck one last time, before shoving his thumb in his mouth and grinning around it at his brother. Madara eyes the loud, messy thing that is now sitting in his lap, and once more finds himself wondering just how they're related, because surely he hadn't been this... childish at two? (If anyone ever asked his mother, Madara had actually been worse, crawling off to get into trouble the second he had figured out how to crawl, already babbling away imperiously at everyone.) 

Madara frowns, and pulls the thumb out of Izuna’s mouth. Their father has said that the habit is a stupid childish one and that Izuna needs to stop, but the two-year old doesn’t seem to realize that yet. Izuna giggles more and raises his thumb again. Madara pushes it away. Izuna shoves it back into his mouth. Madara pulls it out. Izuna is laughing loudly now and Madara is trying very hard to keep scowling as he is forced to remove Izuna’s thumb from his mouth again. The child makes happy noises, and reaches up, and grabs a chunk of Madara’s hair, before  _ yanking _ it. Hard. 

“ Owowowowowow!” Madara exclaims in surprise as his head is jerked downwards because Izuna is tugging his hair and laughing and  _ why won’t this brat let go?! _ Izuna laughs louder as Madara grabs at his hair, gritting his teeth and trying to free it from his brother’s grip and Madara is so tempted to say some of the words that he had learned from his uncles and cousins but he gets the feeling that his mother would find out and make him wash his mouth out with soap again if he did. 

Carefully, Madara grips Izuna’s hand, and as gently as possible, starts untangling his brother’s thick toddler fingers from his hair. Madara decides that he will keep his hair short, so long as Izuna is in this grabbing stage. Izuna pouts, and lets go of Madara’s hair.

“Nii-tama!” Madara wonders how a two year old manages to sound so put out, and then his face is being roughly patted by his brother, who is nearly slapping his cheek. Madara stares at the two year old on his lap. Izuna giggles, and puts his hands on his older brother’s shoulders, using them as leverage to stand up. Madara eyes him warily, not sure what he’s up to now as he watches his younger brother tilt his head to the side, the short spikes of his hair moving with him.

“ Nii-tama!” Izuna declares happily, and wraps his arms around Madara’s neck again. Madara wonders if Izuna is secretly trying to kill him, and then freezes because did he  _ seriously _ just start  _ chewing _ on his  _ hair? _ Madara turns his head to the side as much as he can, and yup, Izuna has grabbed a fistful of his hair, and stuffed it into his mouth with a wide grin. 

Madara wonders why anyone ever has children as he absolutely, does not, whimper, while Izuna keeps happily chewing on his hair. He decides that the new baby cannot come fast enough so Izuna will have to stop being a baby. (Madara decides that he won’t have anything to do with his new sibling until it is at least three.)

 


	2. A Request For More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hashirama is absolutely enamored with his new sibling. And proceeds to ask his parents for more.

**Written 05/15/2015**

**Idea: In which Hashirama is absolutely enamored with his new sibling. And proceeds to ask his parents for more.**

**Characters: Hashirama, Tobirama, Butsuma, unnamed OC**

**Pairings: Butsuma/unnamed wife**

**Warnings: None.**

* * *

Two year old Hashirama Senju had been carried into the dark room by his father, who had then gently set the toddler down, so he could go check on his wife and new son. Hashirama, being a curious two year old, tagged along, using his father’s leg and the dangling sheets from the bed in order to pull himself up on it, smiling happily at the sight of his tired mother.

“Mama!” he declared, crawling over the bed up to the woman, who held a tiny bundle of blankets in her arms. She smiles down at him, handing the bundle to Butsuma who takes it gently, before reaching to wrap hands around him and pull him up next to her.

“Well hello there Hashirama, have you come to meet your new brother?” she asks, eyes happy as she glances between her son and her husband, who has been smiling proudly at the tiny bundle that is now shifting in his arms. Hashirama nods happily, before pausing.

“Wha’sa brufer?” he says and his mother laughs, shifting Hashirama until he is sat comfortably in her lap, and then beckons for her husband to step closer again, carefully taking the bundle from him. She lowers her arms, keeping them wrapped around her first born, so she can maneuver his small arms to help cradle the sleeping child that is tightly wrapped up against the chill of the winter storm raging outside.

“This,” she says softly, “is your new brother. His name is Tobirama.” and Hashirama stares at the scrunched up face, one tiny pale hand clenched in a fist near the slightly open mouth. Gently Hashirama moves one of his hands to brush at the soft strands of light hair that dust the baby’s head. Hashirama is staring at the child in awe, gently poking it’s cheeks, and nose, and watching as it’s eyes begin to flutter open. They have already darkened from the near colourlessness of birth, and Hashirama wonders what colour his brother’s eyes are going to end up. His brother. At two, he’s not quite sure what the word means, but he can understand that apparently this tiny little thing is his. His brother. The baby stares up at him. Hashirama pokes it’s cheek again, softer this time.

“He’s so quiet,” Hashirama can hear his father say, feeling his mother nod.

“Yes, the midwife was worried about that. He barely cried when he was born too, compared to Hashirama, he’s practically silent,” her voice is soft, trying not to disturb the two boys still staring at each other.

“Tobi,” Hashirama says quietly, poking the baby’s fist this time. His father looks at him, raising a brow. “Tobi,” he says again, and gives a sharp nod. Then he grins, and looks up at his parents.

“Can I haf another?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. His parents look at each other, before looking back down at him.

“Can you have another what, sweetheart?” his mother asks. And Hashirama grins, hugging his baby brother close.

“Want ‘nother Tobi!” he says happily, and his parents stare at him for a bit, before his father closes his eyes and his mother has to cover her mouth to hide her laughter. His father is pinching the bridge of his nose, but Hashirama is too busy looking between his brother and mother to notice, still grinning happily. His mother smiles, and smooths back his brown hair.

“Well Tobirama is unique, and there can only be one of him, but I’m sure that you will have other brothers,” she says, laughter still in her eyes. Hashirama nods happily, before going back to patting his brother’s face.

“Tobi, Tobi, Tobi,” he says, and his mother is laughing again. Tobirama scrunches up his face then and starts to wail. Loudly. Hashirama just keeps patting his face and Butsuma wonders idly why he ever wanted children as his wife keeps laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I posted both these drabbles on my tumblr ages ago, and always meant to start up a drabble series including them, and it basically just took forever for me to get around to it, oops ouo;;  
> I hope you enjoyed them! Please leave kudos or comments <3


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